


when he cried wolf, he really meant wolf

by sebi



Series: Short Witcher Fics [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Body Modification, Caring Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel and Vesemir mentioned, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Needs a Hug, M/M, Mentions of mutations, Non-graphic depictions of body mutations, Pre-Slash, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Wolf Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, geralt has ears and a tail, still cursing out the mages of kaer morhen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25905964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebi/pseuds/sebi
Summary: Geralt has a secret from the experimental mutations he received at Kaer Morhen, and he does everything in his power to hide it from everyone, including Jaskier.But secrets like this can't stay secrets forever. Not with an overprotective bard around.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Short Witcher Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880065
Comments: 21
Kudos: 455





	when he cried wolf, he really meant wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a small fic of me dumping wolfie Geralt feels all over the page. There are mentions of body modification from the mutations, but it isn't too graphic.

His tails and ears growing in with the experimental mutations is and always will be Geralt’s most painful memory. The tail and ears took about twelve hours to grow after the experimental mutations. The first thing that happened was that his human ears shrivelled and fell off. That felt like his ears were being burned while he was still alive. When they fell off, he could no longer hear his own screams of pain and desperate pleas for them to make it stop. He was fifteen. The next thing that happened was that the ears started to grow in. The coming through the skin hurt the most, and he howled in pain the whole time whenever he wasn’t passed out. Vesemir and Eskel stood by his side and wiped a cool cloth over his face as he sweated and writhed from the pain. When the ears came in and he could hear himself again, that’s when the tail started growing. Vesemir turned him on his side for this— partly so he didn’t choke on his own vomit as he screamed and wailed in pain, and partly so that the tail could come in easily. It started with his tailbone lengthening, and his whole body hurt so much. The first part of the experimental mutations was the increasing of senses and decreasing of emotions (or so they thought), but the tail and ears were an accidental side effect.

For the first few days afterwards, the tail and ears were furless and his tail looked scraggly and terrible, just a weird, slightly hairy long thing of skin and bone hanging out of Geralt’s trousers. It didn’t matter, though, because he didn’t leave his bed for a week. After about a week, however, he had a full bushy wolf tail and fluffy white ears poking out of his red curls.

That was the other problem. After about two weeks, Geralt noticed that his red curls were starting to grow in as straight white hair. This was what really upset him. He loved his hair. That was his favorite part of himself. He was small and scrawny always, so he got picked on a lot despite being the best of his class.

When it started to grow in white and straight, Geralt immediately had Eskel shave it all off. He kept the red curls in a box in his room. The night he shaved them off, he sobbed into Eskel’s arms. Geralt knew he would never be the same. He should never have let them take him for the experimental mutations— not that he really had a choice in the matter. But he wished that Vesemir would have fought harder to keep him away from the cruel hands of the mages at Kaer Morhen.

And that leads Geralt to now, huddled in the corner of a tavern, a long hooded cloak covering his tail and ears from the public. He tries to not let anyone see him with them sticking out. Frankly, he’s ashamed of them. They just separate him further from the rest of the world, even his fellow wolves. When he was twenty-three, in a moment of panic and anger while he was at the keep, he got a knife from the kitchen to cut off his tail. Eskel stopped him, held him, let him cry, and then guided him back to bed. He didn’t let go of Geralt, didn’t sleep separately from Geralt the whole rest of the winter.

It all changes for Geralt when the annoying bard in a bright blue doublet comes over to his table after his set.

“So, you’re a witcher,” the bard says, plopping himself down on the seat across from Geralt, entirely uninvited.

Geralt just grunts as an affirmation. There’s no use to waste his words on verbally confirming something the bard clearly already knows.

“Let me guess… wearing a cloak, grumpy face, scar across the eye…” The bard feigns scrutinising Geralt, who, in turn, leans back away from the bard’s big blue eyes and soft face. “You’re the White Wolf. Geralt of Rivia.”

Geralt grunts again. The bard figured it out.

“I’m Jaskier.” He pauses. “Well, that’s not my real name. It’s a name I gave myself because my real name is far too pretentious for a travelling bard.”

Geralt moves to stand, but the bard— Jaskier— grabs his hand. “What did you think of my performance? Three words. That’s all I ask.”

“You’re an idiot,” Geralt growls, then pulls his hand away and stands up, shuffling around the bard to get out of this damn tavern.

Jaskier follows him out of the tavern, pushing past the door Geralt tries to close on the bard’s face. “Okay, okay. That was a  _ bit _ harsh, don’t you think? The battles of witchers and monsters and such deserve fancy ballads to remember them.” No response from Geralt. “Geralt?”

“None of those things are real.”

“The ballads? Those are real. The hunts? Unless you’re stealing money from people without actually killing monsters, then those are most certainly real.”

“No, you idiot. The monsters.”

Realisation, and then quickly after, shame floods Jaskier’s face. “Ah… that would be a problem…” Then the bard perks right back up, still following Geralt as the witcher fetches Roach from outside the tavern. “Tell you what, Geralt. I’ll come with you, write about your hunts, and  _ real _ monsters. How about that?”

“No.”

Jaskier jogs to keep up with the witcher and his horse, trying to keep his lute from getting damaged as he carries it. “Aw, come on. It’ll be fun! We can go on adventures, and we—”

Geralt kicks Jaskier in the balls and then mounts Roach, bringing her to a trot.

Jaskier runs after Geralt— maybe more like quickly waddles— clutching his crotch. “Hey! That’s not very nice! Get back here!”

Long story short, Geralt gets used to Jaskier following him, but he never takes off his cloak, except for when he goes out hunting a monster. And then, he doesn’t allow Jaskier to come along “for your safety, bard,” but the real reason is entirely different. If Jaskier sees his tail and ears, he’ll leave. And as much as Geralt hates to admit it, he likes the company. It may be annoying sometimes, but it’s better than being lonely.

But he can’t keep it from Jaskier forever, and he knew that, he really did, but he still tried.

Geralt goes out to complete a contract for a nest of foglets, and he leaves his cloak on a rock and heads into the fog to clear out the nest. He left Jaskier safe in the tavern, singing to earn himself a meal and some tips from tavern-goers who like his music. Roach is safe in the stables at the inn.

It is taking far too long to kill the whole nest. His tail has gotten caught and pulled too many times on gods-know-what, and he is soaking wet and stinking with bog water. Finally, after about five hours of fighting, he kills the final one in the nest.

It’s when he gets back to the rock he left his cloak on where he meets the problem. His veins are black and stark against his pale skin and his eyes are flooded black with his potions. His toxicity level is so high, and after the adrenaline has worn off, he just needs a quiet, dark place to curl up and wait until it goes away. He left his white honey bottle back in the room with the rush to get out of the inn to complete the contract before nightfall. The sun is just beginning to go down now. But the problem is what he finds sitting next to his cloak.

Jaskier.

The bard jumps up when he sees Geralt. “Geralt, oh thank the gods, you’re okay. Are you injured? Did you get them all? I brought the potion you left on the dresser—”

Geralt snatches the potion from Jaskier’s hands and downs it. He squeezes his eyes shut as the toxins in his bloodstream get washed out by the white honey. Then he feels a hand— a human hand— on his left ear.

“Geralt…” Jaskier whispers. “You… why did you never tell me about this?”

“Just— Just leave if you’re going to leave, Jaskier. Don’t draw it out,” Geralt grits out from between clenched teeth.

But when he opens his eyes, he’s met with confusion from the bard. “Leave? Why would I leave? I came all the way out here to make sure you were okay since you took so long.”

Now it’s Geralt’s turn to be confused. “But… but…” He can’t even complete a sentence. He stares at a spot somewhere over Jaskier’s shoulder in utter confusion and a bit of pain. The hand on his ear caresses and gently scratches. Geralt can’t help himself when he leans into it.

“That’s it… good boy…” Jaskier praises softly. “You’re beautiful, Geralt. Whether you have ears, a tail, horns, three eyes. I don’t care. You’re still beautiful to me.”

If Geralt could cry, he would. But he can’t, so he squeezes his eyes shut, contorting his face in pain as his heart feels like it expanded and is suffocating him in his chest. “Jaskier,” he whimpers.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself. Let’s go back and get you washed up, okay?”

Geralt is too exhausted to argue, so he grabs his cloak, puts it over himself so it covers his tail and ears, and then he follows Jaskier back to the inn.

Back in the inn, Jaskier orders them a bath. He carefully takes the cloak from Geralt’s shoulders. Geralt puts a hand up to stop him when the bard’s hands come to the laces of his breeches.

“I can do it. Please,” he whispers.

Jaskier nods and steps back. Geralt can feel Jaskier’s eyes on him as he undresses. His tail droops between his legs, swinging up to cover his private parts, and his ears press down to the sides, embarrassed. He hears Jaskier’s little coo as he steps into the bath.

“Geralt,” the bard murmurs with far more fondness than Geralt thinks he deserves, “look at you. You’re—”

“Disgusting. A mutant.”

“No, darling. You’re so precious. You smell something awful right now, but we can fix that. Can I wash your hair?”

Geralt grudgingly nods. He actually liked it when Jaskier touched his ears before, so he supposes it’s fine now.

Jaskier looks much too excited when he gets the bar of soap to wash Geralt’s hair. He lathers his hands where Geralt can see them, and then instructs Geralt to dunk his head under the water.

Geralt does as told. “Be careful on the ears. And don’t get soap in them please. That’s a pain to deal with.”

Jaskier nods. “I understand. I’ll be as gentle as I can be.” Then his hands, calloused from playing the lute all the time, enter Geralt’s hair.

Geralt gasps.

“Are you okay? Does that hurt?”

Geralt shakes his head, not trusting his voice. He lets out a breathy sigh.

Jaskier smiles, and Geralt can hear it in his voice as he speaks. “Ah… so that’s it. It feels good, huh, pup?”

Geralt blushes and whines, embarrassed that he actually likes hearing Jaskier call him pup.

Jaskier’s hands massage into his hair and around the base of his ears. “Yeah, you like it. I can tell. That’s okay. It’s okay to like soft things. I know you don’t let yourself do this often, but I’d like to take care of you. If you’ll let me, that is.”

Geralt thinks about it for a moment. Does he want Jaskier taking care of him? The answer comes loud and clear in his mind, and that answer is an emphatic  _ yes _ . He really wants it, more than he’s ever wanted anything before. He nods.

“Good. I’m going to give you everything, pup,” Jaskier promises.

For the first time since his ears and tail pushed their way onto his body, Geralt feels hope. It’s a good feeling.


End file.
